Can't Live Without You
by PerfectlyPrecious
Summary: The Fourth Shinobi World War is finally over. Despite the pain and losses suffered, friends are reunited, celebrations begin, and the bond that exists between certain couples is finally allowed to grow. A series of One-shots focusing on the relationships of Shikamaru/Temari, Ino/Choji, and eventual Naruto/Hinata.
1. Shikamaru and Temari

It was over.

The final blow had been struck.

The enemy had been vanquished.

It was over.

But for Temari, the adrenalin pumping through her veins did not abate, and her mind could not rest at ease.

Muscles straining, heart pounding, she scrambled over rubble and debris and bodies, pushing herself forward all while trying not to panic. She heaved in great lungfuls of air, choking as dust and dirt scratched at her throat and clogged her lungs. The air was still thick with the stuff, having been stirred when the huge tree fell. It was stifling and suffocating, and it was the least of her worries.

All around her, shinobi were moving. Some were hauling away the bodies of their comrades, taking them away to be sealed. Some, probably from the medical unit, were administering first aid to the injured (and there were much more injured than there were uninjured). Some, like herself, were searching, searching, searching. Frantically, without pause, Temari pushed forward, desperate.

She did not just survive a war only to have her entire world ripped from her.

At least Kankurō was safe. That knowledge alone gave her the strength to push on, even when her body was at its limit, ready to drop like a stone at any moment. And her heart sang praises of thanks for the safety of her brother. But she couldn't rest, couldn't let herself assume that Gaara was safe. He had been one of the closest ones to the danger. She had to know, had to find out.

Temari was responsible for her brothers. Even though Gaara was the Kazekage, it didn't change the fact that she was the head of the family, and had been ever since her father died. She had practically raised Kankurō after their mother died, as her father had been much too busy running the village and attempting to kill the child jinchūriki. And though she wished she had made different choices, she had viewed Gaara with the same contempt that her father did, and she pushed her youngest brother away, fearing his power as much as the other villagers.

It was a mistake that she could never quite seem to forgive herself for. But he had been spending the last few years trying to make up for it as best she could by becoming Gaara's protector. There was no one in the entire shinobi world that believed in Gaara more than Temari now did, and there was certainly no one that loved him as much.

Temari came to a particularly large pile of rubble. Sounds of other shinobi could be heard from the other side. Barely slowing down, Temari started climbing, slipping on the loose dirt as she clambered along its side. Her fingers grabbed for purchase, the skin on the tips slicing open as they caught on jagged fragments of rocks. She barely felt the pain though. She just climbed higher.

At the top, she had a better view of the battlefield, though she wasn't all that high up. She saw a few familiar faces from the Leaf. A group of three pale-eyed Hyūga were gathered in a little cluster. They were holding onto each other tightly, and the girl was sobbing uncontrollably into the chest of a young man. The young man, looking confused and dazed, patted her back awkwardly. The eldest of the group had his arms wrapped around both of them, looking stoic but immensely grateful at the same time.

Temari could guess what had happened with only a glance. Everyone had thought Neji Hyūga was dead.

Her frantic eyes found the next group. Two green-clad shinobi hugging each other with tears running down their faces, looking more like father and son than sensei and student. Off to the side, the girl with double buns—the same girl that Temari remembered fighting in the first chūnin exams—was surveying the scene with something like trepidation and perhaps some exasperation, though there also seemed to be happiness in her expression.

And there, farther away, were the heroes of the war. Team 7. They were too far away though for Temari to clearly see their expressions. She was sure they had a lot to talk about, especially with the Uchiha's current rogue status still in play.

But that could wait for another time. Because Temari still didn't see _him_.

She slid down the tiny mountain of debris, kicking up more dust, and broke into a run. Surely, if he was alive and unharmed, he would be somewhere near his friends?

And then she caught sight of Gaara, standing tall with the other Kage. Their expressions were grim, troubled, but there was also some semblance of relief in their faces. Gaara, despite his young age, looked to be right at home with the other Kage, completely comfortable with his position. He had commanded the Allied Shinobi Forces, saved the life of the nine-tails jinchūriki, and gained the respect of, not only the Kage, but everyone in the Great Nations as well. No one could say any longer that he was just a monster, because everything he had accomplished had been without the one-tail Shukaku.

And though Temari's heart positively leapt with joy at the sight of her little brother standing regally and safe and alive with the other village leaders, she could not yet stop her search. Not until she was sure that everyone she cared about was alive.

So she pushed past the desire to run up to Gaara and smother him in a hug—not only would he not appreciate it, but it might just be a little embarrassing in front of the other Kage—and rushed past. There would be time later for her to just sit with both of her brothers and look back on everything in their own time. Right now, she was going to search for that last person.

She didn't have long to wait, for her eyes finally found him, standing not even twenty meters away. He was giving out orders to a group of shinobi, composed and collected, with a strength she had never seen in him before. His back was straight and proud—there was none of his usual slouch in his shoulders. He looked so much older than seventeen, and so much wiser, as though the war had given him a lifetime of experience and wisdom to draw upon.

He looked like a commander.

She bolted towards him, emotions getting the better of her. There was no thought in her mind other than punching him firmly in the nose for making her worry so much.

But as she got closer, and he turned towards her, their eyes met. His face was streaked with blood and grime, and there were several lacerations that marred his skin (yet somehow, his hair had managed to stay in that ridiculous pineapple-ish ponytail). And suddenly, she could barely breathe; because no matter how tired and dirty and haggard he looked, he was alive, and there was something in his eyes as he looked at her that she couldn't put her finger on. But she found that she no longer wanted to punch him.

So even though she herself was covered in dirt and grime and blood, and she hadn't been able to bathe in who knows how long, she flung herself at him and gripped him in a tight hug. If he was surprised by her actions, then he hid it well, for his strong arms didn't hesitate to wrap around her and pull her close. He buried his face in her neck, his warm breath tickling her skin as he released a long, relieved sigh.

"I'm glad you're okay," he murmured.

To Temari's horror, tears stung at her eyes, and she had to rapidly blink them away before she embarrassed herself. Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper as she replied, "And I'm glad you didn't get yourself killed, you crybaby."

He chuckled, deep and soft, the sound warming her blood and sending shivers down her spine. "Naw. Dying would have been too troublesome."

Temari choked out a laugh. It was such a Shikamaru thing to say. She wouldn't deny though that it made her feel better, and she wouldn't mind having to listen to him say things like that more often.

Temari hugged him tighter and said in her head what she had been too afraid to say out loud.

_I'm glad you're alive, because I can't live without you._

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**A/N: If you liked this, then check out my other Naruto story called ****_The Road to Destruction_**** (post-war as well). Yes, I am shamelessly promoting my own fic... sue me. **

**Also, I am planning on adding more chapters to this (definitely another Shika/Tema, cause I'm in love with that pairing), and all will take place in the aftermath of the final battle. I am taking requests, so if there's any particular characters you'd like to see make an appearance, leave me a review and I'll see what I can do ;).**


	2. Ino and Choji

**So next chapter.**

**This one is Ino/Choji, and for those of you who are like, "WTH, I hate them, where are ShikaTema?" just chill, dudes. Those two will get their time in the spotlight, just in a different chapter.**

**Pretty much from here, at the bare minimum, I'm planning on having two more Shikamaru/Temari chapters, one more Ino/Chōji chapter, one or two Naruto/Hinata chapters, and an epilogue with everyone in it.**

**There will be other chapters with small insights into other characters feelings, not necessarily any pairings, so if there is someone you want to see appear then drop me a PM or leave a review.**

**I have no real schedule as to when the next chapters will be up, as they are still in the development stage, so please stick around and Follow the story for more to come.**

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Dawn had come. Golden light spilled over distant mountains and ran in rivers along the fractured ground. After having spent so long in absolute darkness, the light was nearly blinding for many shinobi. Waking up from the pleasant dreams of the Infinite Tsukuyomi, only to see the carnage that surrounded them in the full light of day, had driven many to their knees and many more to tears. And the sun didn't manage to drive away the thick smell of blood and death in the air. If anything, it only served to worsen it, as it hastened the decomposition of the endless bodies that littered the battlefield, letting off stench of rotting meat that only those with cast iron stomachs could stand to wade through.

While Ino didn't possess the strongest constitution, she was a skilled medical ninja, and it was her duty to administer treatment to anyone who required it. But after coughing to point where her throat burned and her lungs ached, she needed a much deserved break.

Which was why she found herself crouching in the dirt, mostly hidden behind a fragmented boulder, eyes peeled and ears straining to hear. She barely let herself breathe, and it wasn't because of the smell this time. No. It was because one of her many little fantasies was unfolding right before her very eyes.

Down in one of the little valleys that peppered the ground (and "valley" was stretching it—it was more like a crater if truth be told) stood Shikamaru and Temari, wrapped tightly around each other to the point that Ino couldn't tell whose limbs were whose.

In her head, she was doing a silly little jig. If there was at least one person that came out of this terrible war with a slight bit of happiness, then it made everything that much more bearable. And Kami, Shikamaru deserved to feel happy, especially after what had happened.

Ino only cursed the fact that she couldn't get any closer without risking the possibility of one of them noticing her presence. She _so_ longed to know what they were saying. If they were confessing their undying love to each other at this very moment, she was going to murder that Nara, because there was no way he would ever give her a play-by-play account later on, and she and Temari weren't exactly close enough for the Suna kunoichi to confide in her…

Well, it couldn't be helped. And besides, it was extremely improbable that Shikamaru would ever do anything as logical as confessing his true feelings to the only female that would put up with his lackadaisical attitude. That would be too troublesome.

Ino was so engrossed in her inner ramblings, that she didn't notice the large, very un-stealthy shadow approaching her flank. She remained oblivious right up until the moment the dark figure clapped a hand on her shoulder, and she let out a strangled squeal.

Whipping around, her hand shot out automatically and clamped down around the mouth of one wide-eyed Akimichi Chōji.

"Shhhh!" she hissed, ignoring the startled "mmmph!" that issued from behind her hand. "_What do you think you're doing_? Do you want them to know we're here?"

Chōji blinked owlishly at her, and Ino somewhat reluctantly removed her hand, giving him her best "don't screw with me" glare, perfected over many years of dealing with men.

Chōji was frowning. "Who knows we're here?"

"No one yet," Ino rolled her eyes, pointing down to the tiny valley below. "That was the whole idea. And I don't want them to know."

Chōji looked over Ino's shoulder, blinked, and then looked back at her and cocked his head in question. "There's no one down there."

"What are you talking about? They're right… there…" Ino stared down at the crater, deceptively empty, as though no one had been there to begin with.

No Nara. No Sand kunoichi.

She stomped her foot petulantly and pouted. "Darn it!" she whined. "And they looked so cute together!"

Chōji looked concerned for her sanity. "Are you alright?"

Ino huffed. She probably sounded like a spoiled child, but she couldn't help herself. It wasn't every day she got to see Konoha's resident Lazy Ass hugging a girl and looking _happy_ about it.

It was more likely that Madara would come back and try to subjugate them all again.

She seriously doubted that the manic could actually stay dead.

"Uh… Ino?"

Ino came back to reality and realized that she had never actually replied to the Akimichi. She smiled. "Yeah, Chōji. Sorry. Just lost in thought."

Chōji nodded understandingly, and began filling Ino in on the updated orders one of the Kage had issued, probably the Kazekage since he had been the Commander. But Ino wasn't really listening. It wasn't as if it actually applied to her anyway. She knew her job. She knew her place. And, Kami, she had never thought she would have to wade through the dead in order to treat the living.

Bile rose in her throat and Ino pushed those unpleasant thoughts aside. She didn't need even more things making her sick.

She unconsciously wiped her hands on her uniform, as though to wipe away the blood staining her fingers, and winced as the rough fabric caught on her skin.

Ino had always hated the Konoha shinobi uniform. It was bulky and heavy—even if did offer more protection than her usual, much skimpier outfit—and the colors didn't suit her at all. She couldn't wait to finally be rid of it. In its current state, it was unusable, which meant that no one would care when she burned the sucker. But that could wait until after she found a hot bath to wash the blood and dirt away.

Ino picked at a tear in her flak jacket. Not all of the blood on her clothes and skin was her own. Plenty was from the wounded that she had been helping to heal and move to the medical base that had been set up in the middle of the battlefield. When it was all over, she had been astonished at the sheer amount of carnage that surrounded her, despite having been in the thick of things when the fighting had been going on. The devastation was nearly unimaginable, and Ino had actually found herself pitying those who had survived. Some had lived through the battle only to come away from it with permanent damage—physical or mental or both. Some would never be able to be shinobi again. At least those who had died had died wholly themselves, untainted by the deceptions of the Infinite Tsukuyomi… they had died a shinobi death.

"Ino?"

Ino gave a violent start and blinked up at the Akimichi. Chōji gazed at her with eyes full of concern, and Ino felt a surge of guilt for her thoughts. What was wrong with her? How could she actually stand there and think that death would be better? Her father had wanted her to live.

And yet…

"Are you alright, Ino?" her friend asked her.

Ino forced a smile onto her face. "Yeah, Chōji, I'm fine."

Chōji looked unconvinced, and Ino suppressed a wince. He had given up pretending to believe her. He wasn't going to let this go, and he wasn't going to leave her alone… not unless she gave him something.

"It's just…" she hesitated, worrying her lip between her teeth. "It feels like we're just scavengers, picking through the dead bodies to find the living." Ino shivered and hugged herself. "There's so much death, Chōji. So many people dead. And I can't help wondering if it was really worth it in the end."

Chōji desperately wanted to hug Ino. She looked like a kicked kitten, all bruised and battered, yet still trying to keep up the pretext of spirit, tiny fangs barred in the semblance of a smile. But Chōji had known her nearly all her life, and he could see the deep despair in her eyes.

He hesitated replying to her, trying to word things just right so as to not make her cry. But he hesitated too long.

"Is it wrong that I kind of wish we could have stayed asleep?" Ino asked quietly, her eyes downcast.

Chōji's own eyes widened. "Wha… what do you mean, Ino?" _Had she really just asked that_?

Ino shook her head, and Chōji could see tears glistening in her eyes. Her bottom lip began to tremble. "I just… I was happy there. My father was still alive, and I was wanted… needed. I was important." She shook her head again. "Out here, what am I? Just another medical ninja, and not even very good at that. During the battle, Sakura was the one who was out there fighting with Naruto and Sasuke. She was the one who confronted Madara. And what could I do? Nothing. I was weak. Unnecessary."

"That's not true," Chōji said sternly. "You fought with us. You're part of Ino-Shika-Cho."

Ino let out a bitter laugh. "Don't you see? That's just it. I can't do anything by myself. I'm nothing without you and Shikamaru. Don't deny it," she said when the Akimichi opened his mouth to rebuff her thoughts. "I know what people say about me. I'm just the blond ditz who shows too much skin and is obsessed with her weight." She sighed. "You're the next head of the Akimichi clan, and Shikamaru is already in the running to be jōnin commander. Sakura's probably going to become the greatest medical ninja since Tsunade-sama, maybe even better. Naruto is a hero, and he and Hinata are going to have adorable little Hyūga babies. But I've got nothing."

Chōji blinked, thrown for a moment. "Wait, what's this about Naruto and Hinata?"

Ino waved a hand. "Never mind that. I'm talking about me." But then she deflated even more. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm focusing too much on myself. It could be worse. I could be dead."

Now she was just rambling. "Ino…"

The tears in her eyes finally spilled over, trailing down her cheeks and washing away streaks of dirt and grime and blood. She hastily wiped them away and gave him a sorrowful little smile. "Sorry. Guess I'm just full of myself aren't I?"

"Ino." Why couldn't he find the words?

"I gotta go, Chōji," she said, still refusing to meet his gaze. "They probably need me back in the medical camp."

She turned to leave, but Chōji caught her arm. Ino stared down at his hand for a moment, before finally raising her eyes and looking up at him.

"Ino," he began and then winced. He wasn't a counselor, and though he occasionally gave out advice, it just felt awkward without a bag of chips in his hand. "I know the things we saw in the dream world were great, and they made us happy. But they weren't real. You're real, and I'm real, and Shikamaru is real. And we need to help those that need help and not dwell on the past. We have to move on and start rebuilding, together, as Ino-Shika-Cho. And Ino, we're all together, not because we're weak as individuals, but because we're stronger as a team. We hold each other up, and you're no exception.

"So you're wrong. You are needed here. These people need you. _I_ need you."

Ino smiled at him, but it didn't reach her eyes. "You're a good friend, Chōji. But it's okay. I know what the reality is." And with that, she pulled free and walked away.

Chōji watched her go. "Friend" she had said. Was that all there was ever to be? Chōji thought about his own dream world, where he had been loved for who he was, and with no pressure to change. He had felt good while he was there, with a woman who accepted him. But just as he had told Ino, that place hadn't been real.

Listening to Ino, and seeing how sad she was, Chōji was filled with desire to protect her, to shield her from the cruel ways of the world. He wanted to show her that there were scores of people who relied on her and her and needed her.

Chōji watched her retreating figure and sighed sadly at the dejected sloop of her shoulders. Ino had a great eye for seeing how other people felt about each other, so how could she not see how much he cared for her? Or did she not care?

Chōji shook that thought aside. Ino wouldn't be that callous. He had known her all his life. But still…

How could she not see that he loved her? That he would do anything for her? That he couldn't live without her?

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